


When our worlds meet

by cannibalpasta



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Different Powers, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Space, BAMF Castiel, BAMF Dean, Betrayal, Canon Compliant, Canon Related, Castiel is a captain, Castiel-centric, Character Death, Dean is a rebel, Escape, F/M, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hurt Castiel, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Metatron Being a Dick, My First Destiel Fanfic, My First Work in This Fandom, Not Beta Read, Poor Sam, Protective Castiel, Revolution, Romance, Slow Build, Slow Burn, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-03-21 08:50:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3685932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cannibalpasta/pseuds/cannibalpasta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world, where you're born a human, angel, demon etc., Castiel works under the emperor as one his captains. One day, the emperor captures the leader of a resistance movement, Dean Winchester, and Castiel's world starts crumbling down around him.</p><p>An AU taking place in a fictional solar system, an empire called Vena. </p><p>Eventual destiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Seeing something you shouldn't

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!! c:
> 
> So, this is my first Supernatural fic, I really hope you like it! I'm sorry the first chapter is so full of information thus perhaps hard to wrap a head around at first. I promise the next one'll be a bit less informative! XD
> 
> The empire's name _Vena_ is Latin and it means vein or blood-vessel. It's not canon in the fic itself, more like just an interesting background info. In the notes below, there's a list of the authorities you're about to familiarize with, so if you don't catch it all, don't worry, there'll be help!
> 
> Also, my native's not English, so I'll warn you that there might be some typos or incorrect phrases. Please try to bear with me! ^u^'''
> 
> Anyways, thanks for stopping by and hopefully you'll enjoy my AU! ♥
> 
>  _PS._ If there are any of you who are already familiar with my work in other fandoms, I'm sorry for being inactive for such a long time. I haven't been feeling all that great and in addition have been reallllllly busy, but I'm positive my other WIPs shall be updated soon(er or later). A big thank you and sorry! ♥ ;_;

Castiel was no ordinary angel.

Sure, he had a grace and came from a wealthy family like most angels did. He was also well-educated and behaved perfectly according to his social standing even when he didn't want to.

The difference between Castiel and other angels was that Castiel was a captain. And not just any captain, in fact, he was one of the six captains that served directly under the emperor himself.

Well, technically not directly under, but the closest a captain could get. The only ones closer to the ruler were the generals and some noble family members. Then there was the inner circle, including the council and the ruler's trusted people.

So, it was given that Castiel had never actually talked to him, but he was working under his very roof and talking to the same people he did.

An honor indeed. If his biological parents still lived, they'd surely be very proud.

The thought warmed Castiel's stomach as he busied himself with rearranging the documents in his hands as he strode along one of the long hallways of the enormous palace. For decades and even centuries, it had been known as the auditorium for bloody civil wars and for its reputation as the unbreachable sanctuary in the centre of the solar system. It was still the symbol of piece and refuge, the beacon of hope for many, nowadays known as the Harbor, the emperor's home.

Too many lives had been lost in the Long War, continuing for almost two centuries, only ending scant fifteen years ago, when the empire of Vena had been formed. Castiel's parents had died in the war, his angel mother and father murdered by a group of leviathans in cold blood. Castiel had been but a child then, barely eight years old, as he'd watched them get shredded to pieces from a crack between the cupboard doors. He'd known that they were protecting him, shoving him into the hide and fighting till the end, so he'd kept quiet until the monsters had left his childhood home through the front door.

His parents had been very influential, so he'd soon been adopted into a new family and raised there, until he'd turned sixteen, a year after peace had returned, and moved to another planet to study intergalactic defense.

Now, as a 30-year-old, he felt that he'd achieved quite a bit. Not many could say they'd been promoted to a captain of the emperor's personal garrison at the age of mere 27! He had everything a young angel like himself could desire.

Yet, he still wasn't content.

Castiel turned around a corner and his shoulder hit something, making him grunt mentally.

"Cassie, I've been all over the place looking for you!" Castiel lifted his eyes to glare at Gabriel. He was his coworker, one of the six captains and an incurable prankster.

"What is it, Gabriel?" the slightly taller angel asked as he edged past Gabriel, clutching the documents against his abdomen to keep them straight and even.

"Aww, don't be such a fun sucker! But seriously, we are having a garrison meeting in ten, and the big boss is gonna come, so ditch those and let's roll." Castiel's eyes widened a notch. A garrison meeting meant gathering in the Sky Hall, a large conference room with glass ceiling and high walls. And if the emperor was participating, it meant that there would be something worthwhile to listen to. There'd only been five meetings in total that Castiel had shared with him, so it must be something important.

"I'll be there," he confirmed, nodding absently, "Thanks, Gabriel." Gabriel waved it off and turned around the corner.

Castiel fastened his pace and quickly reached his quarters. His living areas included a spacious office, which the door first led into, a combined bedroom and living room and a bathroom, all of which were accessible with his hand-print. Castiel preferred to keep the main entrance unlocked, thus every drawer and shelf was sealed securely with locks and electronics. He'd even warded some of them with sigils that burned if someone other than him tried to gain access to them. The most important and confidential folders he preserved in his private rooms.

The brunet stored the papers he'd held in a drawer in his desk, standing in the further middle of the study, locking and checking the drawer afterwards. He'd look into the documents later.

He entered his room and walked straight to the bathroom to wash his face. He combed his hair into the customary messy twirl with his damp hands and walked over to a full-length mirror. He adjusted the white captain uniform, tugging at the plain front of the tunic-like shirt to straighten it out, righting the high collar and tightening the gold pin on his chest, a decorative wing badge of a captain. The black shoes made of rarest leather gleamed on his feet in stark contrast with the white of his trousers.

He looked sharp.

Castiel turned on his heels and left for the Sky Hall. Even though the palace was huge, it didn't take but a moment for him to find his way to the hall with the familiar shortcuts.

He sat down at the captains' table, where everyone else was already gathered, the one most on the right of the three long tables in the enormous hall. The generals sat at the center-most table as the lieutenants occupied the table on the left side of the room.

Just as he pulled the chair more forward he felt a jab by his ribs. He glanced to his left to find Balthazar, a fellow captain of his, smiling and mouthing 'hello Cassie'. He had his quirks, but in the end Bathazar was a good guy. His white captain's uniform's collar was, unlike Castiel's, unclasped as always and his sandy blonde hair was tousled up in a familiar fashion. Castiel offered a quick jerk of his chin in return, right before the doors at the front, on the opposite to where Castiel had entered, opened and the emperor marched in.

Their emperor was a short man, an angel in fact, with curly hair and a brilliant mind.

He went by the name Metatron.

It was rumored that Metatron had acquired his position as the emperor through schemes and betrayal, but no one had more than theories of that. Castiel was positive that the only one who'd be in the place to know more precisely about it, would be Metatron's right hand, the second-in-command Gadreel, who in fact followed closely after his commander in to the hall. Also, Castiel wasn't really that interested in flighty gossip.

"My comrades," the emperor greeted, spreading out his hands and bowing his upper body slightly. His knowing smirk was firmly on place as he paced to the large armchair in the middle of the slightly elevated platform, shoes tapping on the pearly marble of the floor.

"Today, I have very good news for you!" he declared, smiling broadly. The embroidered, long, dark gray and blue robes he wore pooled by his ankles where the trousers ended, intensifying the illusion of the emperor's shortness, but not reducing his authority in the slightest. The room was dead silent as he spoke.

"I have captured one of the empire's most wanted, the ultimate rebel!" Castiel straightened in his chair. This indeed was something worth listening to.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he continued, "I present to you; _Dean Winchester!"_

_A Winchester?_

Castiel watched as two bulky guards entered the room through the door at the back, dragging a near limp body of a man – a human, Castiel's sense's confirmed – between them. They tossed him to the floor before Metatron's platform, twisting him around and yanking his hair to give the audience a clear view of the captive.

Castiel looked, taking in the striking forest green eyes, the ragged, dirty hair, plush lips and the blood and grime on his face and neck. His clothing consisted of a pair of loose trousers, a torn shirt that exposed his battered collarbones, leather shoes with slight heels and an old-looking jacket, all in varying shades of brown, black and gray. The sight aroused a protective urge within Castiel, for whatever reason, and he had to quietly clear his throat. Maybe it was because the man looked so pitiful with all the dirt and blood covering him, signs of poverty displayed all over his demeanor.

But, the look on the man's face and in his eyes made it clear that he wasn't someone to pity. He snarled at the guard pulling his head back, desperately trying to kick and fight even when he must have known it was already futile.

The room was filled with surprised and admiring sounds as the occupants watched the prisoner, some recognizing him by his face and some not. The emperor smiled even more broadly.

"This is our first step in stifling that fatuous underground movement. We have the leader," he grasped the back of the captive's neck and shook roughly, evoking an almost inaudible grunt from the Winchester, and continued, "in our hands, and with him we'll bring the rebels down!"

The generals were the first ones to applaud, the others following right after. The emperor smirked happily and slumped into his chair. He motioned to the guards to take away the prisoner.

"I'll soon begin giving orders regarding the actions we shall make with this matter, but for now, all except generals are dismissed." Everyone begun pushing chairs away and getting up, only the middle table remaining seated, according to the ruler's order.

Castiel caught a glimpse of Michael, his direct overseer, a general, changing a word with Zachariah, also Castiel's superior for his seniority, though his rank was still that of a captain's. They both, Zachariah and he, took their straight orders from Michael and then directed them forward to the lieutenants and officers and so on to the troops, even though every general could give them orders if they so wished.

Next to Michael sat Lucifer, probably just to spite him, and opposite to him Raphael. They all came from the same wealthy family and thus had all ended up in such high positions. The youngest of them all was the fourth brother, the captain, Gabriel. He'd also once been a general like his older brothers, but due to some conflict in the inner circle, he'd taken a captain's post instead. It had happened around the time when Castiel had begun working in the palace, and Gabriel or any other on a higher rank wasn't that forthcoming with the information so he'd had left the matter untouched.

Other occupants around the table were Naomi, Abaddon and Bartholomew. Of all the generals, Abaddon was the only un-angel as she was born a demon, and it showed in the behavior of others as well as in hers. The confrontation between species, especially between angels and demons had been deeply rooted during the Long War and prejudice was hard to shake off.

Castiel made his way back to his quarters, pulling the documents he'd gotten earlier back up and flipping through them. It was dull, the paperwork, but it was something that had to be dealt with. Though now, his should-be-occupied mind kept wandering elsewhere. Back to the captive, the rebel.

Dean Winchester, that is.

He'd heard and read about the underground movement, the fact that it'd been formed to resist Metatron's rulership. There was little knowledge about the obscure movement, but Castiel knew that the previous leaders had been Dean Winchester's parents, Mary and John Winchester. They had been convicted for treason and sentenced to death six years ago by Metatron, who'd at the time served as the emperor for roughly a year. Dean also had a brother, Sam, though Castiel didn't know where he was or if he was even alive anymore.

Honestly, Castiel wasn't sure what to make of it. Humans were the majority in Vena, even though they rarely possessed any powers to make themselves special. All the other species had something; demons had superior strength and a form of telekinesis, angels had all abovesaid and also the ability to muster pure energy, their grace in a palm of a hand and use it in varying ways, leviathans were strong and had their sharp and prickly teeth, shapeshifters could shapeshift and so on. All humans had, was a surname to tell them apart more easily.

There were no humans in the emperor's council nor in the other high ranks. The only humans Castiel had even seen in his life, had been on a way through a human district or the few in the troops he commanded, and now the one Winchester. He knew that it was a bit unfair, but he also knew that ruling a whole empire wasn't an easy task. And they were all safe and sound, and that's what mattered most to Castiel.

Someone knocked on his door and he invited them in.

"Captain," Hannah, a lieutenant working under Balthazar and thus under Abaddon, greeted him as she stepped into Castiel's office.

"Hannah," he said, rising up from his chair. "What is it? Please, have a seat." She nodded and pulled back the chair Castiel had motioned her to. He sat back down on his own as she did opposite to him.

"I, uh," she begun, looking for words. Castiel kept his eyes on her face but busied his hands with arranging the documents away from sight.

"I have something I need to tell you," she finally said, firmly looking into Castiel's eyes. "I think... there's something going on. Something not good." Castiel narrowed his eyes.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I just... Well, I thought that you'd understand the best. You have that sort of a reputation, you know?" Castiel quirked an eyebrow. He and Hannah had talked before, and Castiel was rather fond of her, but still, he was surprised to be the one being told something like this.

"What do you mean by that?" he continued on their previous topic, "Corruption? Treason?" Hannah shook her head.

"No," she said, "I overheard a conversation. Between Naomi and Azazel." _Azazel_. A demon, previously working under Lucifer, alongside with Castiel's closest friend, Uriel, as a captain, but had been transferred to work for Naomi after her two captains, Anna and Crowley left their posts within the three anterior years. Castiel had known Anna only for a few months before she'd rebelled and left around the same time as Gabriel had switched positions, but they'd gotten along well. Crowley had quit about a year ago after some disagreements with his superiors, but Castiel's knowledge was limited with his case.

He waited for Hannah to continue.

"They were talking about orders and torture methods and, and... I don't know Castiel, I was under the illusion that things were dealt with differently." Castiel furrowed his brow, eyes sharp.

"What do you mean, Hannah? Do you suspect they would be torturing someone?"

"Not just torturing, sir, they're brainwashing, killing, exploiting..." Hannah glanced away. "I gathered that they were talking about the prisoners held here in the Harbor. Humans, Castiel. I was hoping you could look into it. The way they spoke about it made me worry."

"When did you hear of this?" Castiel asked. His mind was a storm of questions and confusion. It was a lot to take in at once. Hannah was accusing a general and a captain of serious crimes, and Castiel and she could both get in serious trouble if someone found out what they were discussing about.

"I've heard something before, but today I was finally fully convinced," she answered, her blue eyes a bit lost yet firm, "But I trust you'll do the right thing, Castiel." She got up and grasped Castiel's hand, giving it a squeeze as she spoke. Then she swiftly left his office.

Castiel was more than confused by what Hannah had just told him. Such methods had been deemed unacceptable by the emperor himself, and couldn't possibly be performed by people on such high ranks.

He quickly stashed the same documents away and got out of his office. Making his way to the Archives, he thought about possible outcomes and explanations for the ordeal. Maybe Hannah had just misheard? But how could that be possible?

He identified himself to the receptionist and strode straight to the shelves where they kept the records of the captives. The Archives were the empire's largest archives on history, certificates and other records and files and papers, and if there were any printed knowledge on how the prisoners were handled, it would be there. The shelves continued more than 30-feet-tall all the way up to the ceiling, creating a labyrinth of dusty papers and shaggy shelf-walls in the enormous room.

Castiel spent the next hour looking through files and photos, but found nothing suspicious apart from the fact that some files seemed incomplete or even censored. He rubbed his eyes tiredly as yet another file showed nothing but blank spaces to him.

"Captain." The call jolted Castiel from the papers in his hands and he looked down from where he was standing on a ladder. His lieutenant, Rachel stood there, staring up at him.

"Rachel," he greeted and promptly put the file in its right place. "What is it?" he asked as he begun climbing down.

"Orders from Michael," she said and handed Castiel a fine, white envelope. "What are you doing here, sir?" Castiel studied the envelope, buying more time for himself.

"Just some research, don't worry about it," he told her, meeting her gaze evenly. She hummed and eyed the shelf Castiel had just been rummaging through.

"Just stay safe," she said eventually and left. The answer baffled Castiel, but he let it slide in favor of opening Michael's letter.

 

_You've been assigned to investigate and map the locations of the resistant movement._

_Study their previous routes and try to predict the future ones._

 

_Michael_

 

 _Great._ It seemed that his own investigations would have to be delayed.

Castiel didn't leave the archives, but he moved to another section, the one that held information about humans and the resistant movement. The mapping would take some time.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was the next evening when Castiel turned in his initial report on the movement's past and presumed routes.

Oddly enough, he'd been told by Zachariah not to meddle in something he had no part in. He and Zachariah had never had that much of a consensus, but it had still surprised him. Sure, he'd been seen by some people when he'd been doing his research about the prisoners, but he'd never before been told to not study something.

There really was something going on, he was now sure of it.

Now, that he'd finished his assignment, he was free to continue his investigations, hopefully without anyone interrupting him. Although Castiel was a loyal servant of the crown, he wasn't going to let injustice go unnoticed. He was sure that'd also be what theemperor, or any emperor, for the record, would do.

So, next he'd decided to ask someone who'd experienced captivity firsthand.

He walked fake-nonchalantly down to the Harbor's dungeon, probably the only part of the palace that didn't flaunt with its glamour and decor. The dungeons were chilly and dark quarters underground, walls made of stone and iron like the prisons in old time.

As he neared the main entrance, he saw two demon lieutenants, Ruby and Alastair exit the dungeons through it. The two worked under Lucifer, and Castiel wasn't certain what to think of them. He waited until they'd left the lobby before coming from his hide behind the corner.

"Castiel, a captain, going to see a prisoner," he identified himself to the guard and was about to enter when the man stopped him with a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"I'm afraid I can't allow you, captain," he stated, meeting Castiel's narrowed eyes.

"How can it be that two lieutenants are allowed to the dungeons but a captain is not?" he asked sharply, not shifting his pressing gaze from the guard. The guard shifted a bit uncomfortably but didn't budge.

"I have orders, sir."

"Whose?"

"I'm forbidden to tell, sir." Castiel huffed but turned around to leave.

Something was  _definitely_ going on.

Without really thinking, he gathered a small amount of grace into his palm and, with fast movements, smacked it against the guards forehead, rendering him unconscious. It was an easy task for an angel of Castiel's level, and orders or not, Castiel wouldn't let the matter rest if something unjust was happening.

And it, increasingly so, seemed to be the case.

He entered the first region of the prison, a longish hallway with cells on each side of it. As he made his way along it, he found that the cells were empty. He fastened his pace, until halting by the last cell on the right side of the said hallway.

There sat, huddled by the wall, the leader of rebels, Dean Winchester.

"Hey!" Castiel exclaimed, surprised, crouching before the cell and grasping the rusty iron bars before him. He watched the Winchester flinch, trying to cover it with a nasty glare he sent Castiel's way as he raised his head. There was more blood on his face than yesterday and he looked somewhat haunted.

 _Torture,_ Hannah's words echoed in Castiel's mind.

"What happened?" he asked, and as his question went unanswered, he made another, keeping his voice even, "Did-did someone torture you, Dean?" Dean's eyes flashed.

"If it's mind games you're playing, then you can just forget it, 'cus _I'm not fucking buying it!"_ he spat at Castiel, keeping his green eyes locked on Castiel's blue ones.

"I'm not playing any mind games!" Castiel snapped at him, instantly regretting when the man glared at him, "I want to help," he amended, "No one's supposed to touch you like that, even as a captive." The human still looked suspicious, but at least he was paying attention to Castiel.

"Who are you?" he asked gruffly.

"My name is Castiel. I'm a captain here." Dean looked like he was closing up again at the 'captain', so Castiel hurried to continue, "Listen, I want to help you, but you have to help me first, okay?" The human said nothing. "I need to know what they did to you, anyone that has been in here. Please." They were silent for a while.

"They wanted to know 'bout the movement," the man finally said, "and I wasn't compliant, so..." Castiel dropped his face into his hands and pressed the bridge of his nose as he got the hint. He understood the need to know about the movement since it was a threat to the crown, but the methods were... just  _wrong._

"I'll let the emperor know about this and he'll make sure it won't happen again," he told the captive, rising up. He was surprised to hear him laugh out loud.

"You're... you're gonna tell  _Metatron_ about this? Oh,  _please, Castiel,"_  the human mocked, "Who do you think is the cause for all our misery? It's  _him,_ cap."

"Why do you think that?" Castiel asked, brows knitting together. The Winchester looked surprised for a brief moment.

"You don't  _know_ what he's doing?" he asked incredulously, drawling as he did. Castiel was rather confused and it probably showed.

"What do you mean by that?" Dean Winchester was silent for a while, slightly gaping at Castiel. Then he huffed out a laugh.

"Listen, Cas... can I call you Cas?" the captain didn't have time to answer before he already continued, "I don't know what bullshit you've been fed with all these years, but Metatron is  _not_ who you think he is. He uses us, humans I mean, as his free workforce and forces us to live in cramped districts and forbids us from studying. Don't you get it? He wants to create a _hierarchy_ , with us at the bottom and him on the top. Man, you gotta believe me and let me out. I'll tell you everything if you just help me." Castiel was surprised at the sudden honesty, but kept his face stern. Dean's eyes looked sad as he added,

"Cas, I you have to do this. My people  _need_ me." The last sentence just broke Castiel's heart.

He was feeling very conflicted. Too much controversial information in one 24 hours, so little time to process and decide what to believe. Should he believe this stranger or follow the orders given to him, which he'd already broken by entering the dungeon and continuing his investigation? And what about Hannah's story? What about Naomi and Lucifer and their subordinates? What about the missing pieces in records in the Archives, the place where all the data was guaranteed to be? What about Dean? What about the crack in his voice when he pleaded help from Castiel?

"Cas!" Dean yelled suddenly, breaking eye contact with Castiel in order to look at something behind his shoulder. The angel turned just in time to catch a wrist holding an angel blade midair. The owner of it was Uriel.

"Uriel..." Castiel breathed out, astonished. His comrade, a friend even,  _a traitor?_

"What is this? _Explain!"_ he demanded as he stood up, still holding Uriel's wrist. Uriel scoffed softly, amused.

"What does it look like, Castiel?" he countered, "You should have ceased snooping when Zachariah told you to. We could've remained friends."

"Metatron will hear of this, and there'll be consequences, Uriel!"

"Don't be foolish, Castiel," Uriel said, "Who do you think gave the orders?" Castiel's eyes widened.

"I don't-I don't understand."

"Of course you don't, you've always been a little naive. Metatron's building an empire, Castiel, but the empire's for  _us,_ angels and demons and all the other higher life forms! Don't you see, that the way to peace is this, humans being the ones to loathe and not each other?" Castiel had to drop his gaze. He felt sick.

_This is madness._

Uriel cupped the side of his face, lifting it.

"Join us, brother, the angels shall rise again above everyone else." A flash of hot anger washed through Castiel and he twisted Uriel's wrist.

"Never," he hissed.

"Then you can burn with them," someone said from the doorway and Castiel turned his face in time to see Rachel talking.

"Rachel..." The betrayal of two close comrades felt crushing on top of Castiel, and the lack of concentration made it easy for Uriel to twist their hands around and slam Castiel against the iron bars. Castiel grunted and growled as he met Uriel's eyes again.

Suddenly, Rachel's scream ripped through the air as Gabriel's angel blade sank through her back. He pulled it away and she fell to the floor in a mess of limbs. Uriel attempted to use Castiel as his hostage against the impending and approaching Gabriel, but Castiel was faster and reversed the blade to sink into Uriel's own abdomen. He looked into his former friend's eyes as he pulled the blade out, Uriel falling to the ground as he did.

"Cassie!" Gabriel shouted and threw the keys to Dean's cell to him. "Get him out of the palace, now! I've been doing my own research and more than half of the court is corrupted." Castiel fumbled with the lock as he listened to Gabriel talk. "And now that you've gotten yourself in, there's no point in hiding anymore." Gabriel took a hold of Castiel's shoulders and spun him around so that they were face to face.

"Bathazar and I will take care of matters here, you take him to safety. We need him if we are going to start a revolution."  _A revolution?!_ "Do you understand, Castiel?" Gabriel shook him a little as if to emphasize his words.

"Yes," Castiel replied, exhaling as he did.

"Good. Now go." Gabriel turned the key once more and the lock opened. He pulled Dean, who had already come to the door, out and gave Castiel a push in the direction of the main entrance. "I'll handle this mess here." Castiel nodded and grasped Dean's shoulder to support him on their way out.

He didn't want to look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked what you read, if you did, please leave a comment or kudos! ♥
> 
> **Here's the list of generals, captains and lieutenants I promised:**
> 
> **Generals** → Naomi, Abaddon, Raphael, Michael, Bartholomew, Lucifer  
>  **Captains** → Castiel, Gabriel, Zachariah, Balthazar, Uriel, Azazel, (Anna, Crowley)  
>  **Lieutenants** → Ruby, Alastair, Dick (Roman) (not yet introduced), Hannah, Hester (not yet introduced), Rachel


	2. Mourning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: fairly detailed description of injury

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! :)
> 
> I'm sorry this chapter is a bit shorter, but I wanted to keep it that way for the sake of smoother narration. I've been super busy again, but it's almost holidays and then I'll hopefully be able to update more regularly!
> 
> Cheers! ♥

They made it to one of the old, hidden passageways to insurance the safety of the emperor, when Dean had to stop to catch his breath. He was still weak and in pain from the torturing, after all. Castiel eyed the human with concern and guilt swirling in his stomach.

"Stop looking at me like that," the man said, sending a quick glare towards the angel. Castiel frowned at him.

"We need to move on, Dean. They probably already know about you breaking free, and I shall be no help when they'll hear of my treason."  _Treason._ The word made shivers crawl up Castiel's spine when he even thought about it.  _Him._ Committing a  _treason._ And all for this one ill-treated human. The only comfort he got was that deep inside, he felt that he was doing the right thing. Stronger than ever, actually. And the emperor would forgive him, once he heard of the crimes committed against his laws.

"No," Dean said, startling Castiel from his thoughts.

"What?"

"I said no," the human repeated, not meeting Castiel's eyes. "I need to...I need find someone. From the palace."

"And who is that?" Castiel asked, squinting at the man's face. He wiped a hand over green eyes and sweaty forehead before speaking,

"My brother Sam." Castiel's eyes widened a tad.

"Dean, you realize that he might not be here and may not even be alive–"

"I know! I know," Dean cut him off. He seemed to be battling himself, squeezing his eyes shut and biting his lip. "But I need to do this, man. I really do." Castiel clenched his jaw.

"Alright, let's make a compromise. I'll have my second lieutenant," a bitter taste of betrayal flooded his senses when he briefly thought about Rachel, "Hester, to look for your brother. But Dean,  _we,_ need to leave the capital. Preferably now." Dean looked like he was about to argue that, but then seemingly remembered something (perhaps the resistance movement he was responsible of) and bit his tongue, nodding curtly.

"Ok. Lead the way, Castiel."

He leaned away from the wall and they begun moving down the dim passageway. When they came to the cross Castiel knew led to the captains' quarters, they stopped.

"Wait here," the angel commanded and slipped through an opening in the wall. He straightened himself and stalked to his own quarters. He quickly gathered some essentials: a few shirts, some ingredients for spells, his journal (which contained spells, memoirs and bits of documents), his angel blade, bandages, a water flask and all his currency, all stuffed in a black satchel. He also pulled his black travel cloak on to hide his pure white uniform. Then he quickly wrote instructions to Hester on a piece of parchment and speed walked out of his rooms. He stopped the first guard, hoping he didn't look suspicious, and handed him the parcel, telling him to give it to lieutenant Hester. Then he ran back to Dean who was still waiting in the passageway.

"Sorry," he said as he entered, pulling the secret door closed after him.

"It's okay," the human replied and they continued walking.

"Did you have anything precious on you when you got here?" Castiel asked, it only now occurring to him.

"Nah, just my weapons, but I can get new ones." Castiel nodded, humming gruffly in response. They were nearing the exit.

"And Cas..." Castiel craned his neck to face Dean. "Thanks, man, for all of this." The human offered a weak, yet cautious, smile to him and Castiel felt his lips – against his usually grim nature – turn slightly upward.

"You're welcome, Dean," he replied as he pushed the exit open.

 

* * *

 

Outside the stars were already beginning to show. The sky was clear, and it would had been an ideal night to watch the sphere and its constellations, if Castiel only would have had the time. As it was, he was leading Dean towards the underground routes where the human had instructed him to go. They were especially designed for the labour workers and rarely used by any other species apart from humans and some 'minor' species.

They staggered down the skew cobblestone entrance, Castiel almost forcefully keeping the weakened human walking straight. Dean's condition seemed to be worsening every moment, and the angel was concerned if his injuries were more grave than he'd assumed. After walking for a while in the still bustling tunnel and not deemed suspicious by the other humans (either they were used to this kind of a sight, not recognising Castiel as an angel with their duller senses but mistaking him for a human, or they were too busy to care), Castiel pulled Dean into a niche in the wall and let him slump against it.

"I'm no healer, but I am able to heal some minor injury. Show me," he said, pulling up his uniform's sleeve.

"I'm fine," the man replied, swatting Castiel's hand further away. "And, Cas, mind the personal space." Castiel tilted his head, squinting and murmuring an apology and leaned away from the human but didn't get far for the niche wasn't really that spacious.

"You're going to slow us both down, Dean," Castiel tried a new tactic, "Let me help." Dean bit his lip petulantly for a moment before letting out a heavy breath.

"It's my right side," he mumbled finally, looking away from Castiel, as if in shame for needing help. Castiel ignored it for now, and pulled up the humans shirt, revealing a painful-looking, deep and angry gash on his flank. It looked like someone had attempted to patch it up a little, threads of grace-formed skin holding it together like stitches would, but sloppily done, uncaringly, and thus they'd stretched and broken, causing the wound to open and bleed more than it was meant to.

The skin-stitches were supposed to keep the human alive, but only to a certain extent.

Castiel felt his stomach turn in nausea and burning anger. Now he was even more glad he'd chosen to save this poor soul.

"Hold still," he commanded and brought his hand to the wound. Dean concealed a hiss of pain (but Castiel caught it anyway), when he used his thumb to push the torn skin towards the place where it belonged, closing the gaping gash almost completely by doing so. He used his other hand to create similar skin-stitches, only now more sturdier and wider, and also tried to heal the wound from the inside. He then bandaged it tightly, grateful for the fact that he'd packed medical dressings with him. It wasn't perfect, but it was good, and it would suffice until they got somewhere where Dean could get decent treatment.

"Thanks, Cas," Dean said when Castiel re-emerged to his level. "I really don't know how to thank you enough for all this."

"It's alright," Castiel replied seriously, nodding a little as he did, "Let's continue."

But Dean didn't make a move. Castiel stopped on his tracks.

"What is it?" he asked, eyeing the human.

"It's just... I can't bring you with, Castiel," he said, meeting Castiel's eyes. "I'm grateful for everything you've done for me, but I just can't." Castiel scowled at the human.

"Why?"

"First off; I don't really know you, not really," the human chuckled humorlessly, "and second; _they_ don't know you. So _please_ , excuse you–" Castiel thrust his hand out, lightning speed, grabbing Dean's shoulder and pushing him hard against the wall behind.

"Do you understand that I just committed a treason for _you?"_ he hissed. He knew that it wasn't fair, that Dean was doing this to protect his people but it had been a stressful night. For both of them. He inhaled slowly before continuing, "I have nowhere to go, Dean. It's either us both here, getting caught and brought back to the palace, or we can go to your people together. Furthermore, your're far too weakened to travel by yourself." Forest green eyes bore into his own, desperately seeking for a leeway. He gave no such thing. _  
_

Biting his lip, the human sighed.

"Alright, you ass. Now move." They stepped back on to the pavement, Castiel supporting Dean by his elbow. They walked briskly until they reached the tunnel's end, sweat beading on Dean's brow as he took support from the second nearest vehicle. It was a black wasteland rover, old and rusty but in the best shape something in its age could be.

"Get in," Dean gestured at him, pulling a door open and ducking next to Castiel right after.

They took off the instant Dean started the engine, driving towards the dark horizon. Castiel glanced over his shoulder when they'd gotten a bit further from the parking lot. The Harbor's long towers were dotted with shining lights as was the city surrounding them. To Castiel, it looked beautiful.

 

* * *

 

They drove through the night, Castiel snoozing off occasionally as Dean kept driving. At midday they had a small break to sleep, the rover tucked safely between two large boulders, and to eat some of the food Dean had stashed in the vehicle beforehand. It was kind of awkward, but Castiel thought he got along just fine with the man. And he  _was_ the first human Castiel had ever properly encountered with. He wasn't really sure if they (meaning humans) had some special customs he was breaking or if his words were unwanted, thus didn't try to force a conversation. Nevertheless, he liked Dean, and was glad that he'd saved him. Now he would just have to keep the human save and try to do something to stop the empire's corruption.

The night arrived again, and that was the first time they caught a glimpse of the capital's guards; they recognized three galactic aircrafts, two moving towards the Harbor and one away from it. Fortunately, the rover was equipped with a cloaking system, but they still pulled to a stop to wait for the crafts to pass.

It was the next morning, when they reached a parched valley which Castiel had never been to before, though it did strike him as somewhat familiar. Dean drove the rover into a nook between two sharp-edged walls of stone and squeezed through. Castiel couldn't help but worry for the rover's paintwork, but his musings were cut off when the vehicle stopped abruptly. He looked before him at the sight Dean was just witnessing.

A smallish clearing, hidden from the sky by the stone walls, was littered with signs of battle. Large tents were ripped apart, some belongings were scattered on the ground and two bodies were lying in the dirt. Dean scrambled the door open and ran towards the nearer one, Castiel soon following after.

The body was that of a young boy, raven black hair clumped with thick blood.

 _"Kevin!"_ Dean exclaimed, his voice painfully hoarse. He shook the teen's slight frame, but the corpse was already showing signs of decomposition. Dean chocked a broken sob but quickly moved to the other body. It was also a body of a young man and Castiel felt fading angel grace as he approached. The other body was an angel.

"Alfie..." Dean whispered as he knelt next to the young angel. Castiel saw him wipe his eyes, but didn't move to comfort the man; he knew by now that the human was too proud for that. When he stood up, Castiel offered instead,

"I'll help you bury them."

Dean nodded jerkily, "Thanks."

They dug two graves with a pair of abandoned shovels and placed the bodies in them. After that they sat in silence for a while. It was warm, but once the night would set in the temperature would start dropping rapidly.

"Where is this place?" Castiel asked, breaking the silence when he deemed it appropriate. The human sniffed before answering.

"The valley that we're in is called Siccus. We set camp here when we need to visit the Harbor, but I guess that's a lost cause now," Dean said gruffly, but Castiel only half-heard the rest.

_Siccus Valley._

That was the exact location he'd given to his superior regarding the presumed route of the movement.

It was his fault that the camp had been found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment or kudos! Thanks for reading ♥


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